


Never

by triforcelegends8



Series: Intoxicated [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Mentions of Character, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforcelegends8/pseuds/triforcelegends8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t risk another distraction from Work. Never again would he attach or infatuate himself with another lest they destroy him from the inside out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for this chapter being so late- I have my reasons :P Anyways, this is the final chapter to the series Intoxicated. :) Enjoy!

It was three weeks since John was murdered, Mycroft stabbed, and Sherlock freed from his rapist’s bindings.

John died the instant the bullet entered his head, and Lestrade struggled to deal with the fact that he had killed his friend, regardless that he had raped Sherlock. He still couldn’t get over the fact that _John_ , of all people, was the one who had raped a threatened Sherlock- made the man so fearful of him. But overall, Lestrade was taking the shocking news surprisingly well, along with the knowledge that _he_ was the one who had killed John.

Once they learned what happened to Sherlock, Anderson and Donovan seemed to pity the man. They wouldn’t question him as to why he was on a crime scene, they wouldn’t mock him or call him names, and they would occasionally help him since he didn’t have a partner to assist him anymore.

Sherlock hated it. He wanted to be treated like he used to be before John ever came along, before Sherlock trusted him, before everything happened. But there was no such mercy for the detective. He only ignored their lack of insults and never returned the help they gave him.

When Mrs. Hudson found out, she burst into tears, crying and wailing words that told Sherlock that she thought everything was he fault—that she should have seen the signs and done something, that she knew something was so very wrong between the two, but she didn’t want to make it worse between them by mentioning anything. Sherlock quickly crossed her kitchen to reach the ailing woman and hugged her tightly. When he pulled back, he rested his hands on her shoulders and said with a smile, “Look, I’m fine.” They both knew that this wasn’t the case, however, he would never be truly ‘fine’. But Mrs. Hudson just smiled back and nodded, wanting to believe the lie.

A few weeks after being taken to the hospital by Anderson and Donovan, Mycroft was now fully healed and had escaped with a clean, non-lethal wound, which needed only seven stitches. He was obviously shocked by what happened not just to him, but to John’s fate as well. What Lestrade did was brave and quick-thinking; he saved his and Sherlock’s life. Mycroft was grateful, and as soon as he was out of the hospital he thanked the DI, being sure to tell Lestrade that if he ever needed a favour- a criminal interrogated, information gathered- all he had to do was call.

Sherlock was palpably traumatized- by the rape and John’s sudden and mercifully quick death. He was relieved he would never have to see John again- that he would never be tortured by the man again. But despite that fact, Sherlock despised Lestrade for his action. Hated Lestrade for giving John a quick, painless death. He hated John too for being given such mercy. Sherlock didn’t know when he started to hate John. During the times of his rape, Sherlock still held out hope that John would come to his senses, beg for forgiveness, loathe what he had done to his friend. But no such senses were awakened. Sherlock reckoned he started to abhor John when his brother spoke with him, made him realise John would rape him again, given the chance, and definitely would never feel guilt over his actions.

And now John never would.

With John’s death came the need to dispose of John’s body and his belongings from 221B Baker Street. Mycroft sent his men into the room where John lay dead and bleeding profusely from the gaping hole in his head and ordered them to take his body to the building with the freezer to freeze his body for the time being. While still in the hospital, Mycroft ordered his men to clear the flat of everything that belonged to John; his laptop, his clothes, his unused cane, even the food he bought. The business was quick and quiet, neither Sherlock nor Mrs. Hudson home at the time of the ‘cleaning’.

By the time Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson were back home, previously occupied with Mycroft and Lestrade, they discovered that half of the objects in 221B were gone. They never spoke about it.

Sherlock lived fine without John. He taught himself in the areas that he was more or less ignorant of and where John excelled. He was able to solve cases quicker and learned to cope with the lack of compliments that were uttered once the stream of deductions left Sherlock’s lips. In his mind, however, he could always hear John’s voice when he charmed Sherlock with his sweet words. Sherlock eventually got used to the quiet in the flat, in the cabs, at Bart’s learning to focus on things other than the sound of John making tea and the kettle screaming, the laptop keys clacking after a case was solved, and the annoyed and slightly disappointed noises when he laid eyes on Sherlock’s most recent experiment.

Sherlock knew that, before everything happened, he considered John a friend. But he had considered him much more, much closer, than just a friend. On more than one occasion he felt he had romantic and even sexual attraction to his friend. And, on more than one occasion, he got urges to express his feelings, whether they be romantic or sexual. Being the detective he is, Sherlock was able to think of possible scenarios if he ever acted on those urges. They ranged from John being disgusted- never wanting to talk to the detective again and leaving him alone in the flat and alone on cases- to relief or joy- John would smile and pull him in for a kiss or hug, and mutter, “Thank God,” while he held Sherlock in his arms.

But mental scenarios and the actual world are very different and it never, never, occurred to Sherlock that John was the monster he is. Sherlock’s eyes were opened to how cruel and deceiving people could actually be, even those close to him. Sherlock vowed to himself to never let anyone close ever again. Already his mind as fouled with the images and feelings of John, the man he let close to him, raping him. He couldn’t risk another distraction from Work. Never again would he attach or infatuate himself with another lest they destroy him from the inside out.


End file.
